


The Flying Buttress

by Sareki



Series: Canon Consistent P/T Universe [17]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, post Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sareki/pseuds/Sareki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(P/T) Set post-Endgame, B’Elanna has to deal with the consequences of having never graduated from the Academy. Rated R.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May 2381

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Photogirl1890](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Photogirl1890/gifts).



> This was written for the inaugural Deck Nine P/T exchange, to Photogirl1890’s wonderful prompt, “Tom has to help B’Elanna with something that she wouldn’t need help with if she’d stuck it out at the Academy and graduated. Can take place at any time.”
> 
> I have to admit that this is a story that had been brewing in my head for quite some time, and this prompt finally gave me something to write it around. So thank you so much, Photogirl1890!
> 
> I also have to thank CaptAcorn for holding my hand and giving me a tremendous amount of feedback (and information on how babies work...). I couldn't have written this without her. And many thanks to Delwin and RSB for much needed feedback to get things moving in the right direction. And finally, again to Photogirl1890 for using her eagle eyes to catch typos as she read her gift…

B’Elanna moved quickly through the tightly packed throng. She dodged right, then left, trying to locate Tom and Miral. She scanned the top of the crowd, hoping to glimpse Tom’s head bobbing above the masses. Someone knocked into her from behind, causing her cap to go askew.

She turned and glared at the back of the offender’s head before righting her cap. As she began to move forward again, she felt as though she was swimming in the crowd just as much as she was swimming in her gown. She looked slightly ridiculous in it, and she had to keep a grasp on her hood to keep it from choking her, but for some reason she did feel… special.

Scanning the crowd again, she saw a small figure with wavy dark brown hair and cranial ridges rise above the crowd. Tom had evidently lifted Miral up on to his shoulders, using the three year old as a standard. B’Elanna quickly made her way to them, and when Miral saw her, she shouted (very close to Tom’s ear), “Mama! I saw you on the stage!”

“You did?!” B’Elanna asked, as Tom lowered Miral to the ground, allowing her to run to her mother.

“I did! They said your name! I clapped for you, like this!” Miral proudly demonstrated clapping.

B’Elanna couldn’t help but kneel down and embrace her daughter. “Thank you for clapping for me,” she said, not really knowing how to express to the child how much it did actually mean to her.

“You're welcome,” Miral replied matter-of-factly once B’Elanna let go.

Rising, B’Elanna met Tom’s eyes. “So, did you clap for me too?” B’Elanna asked, a sly grin on her face.

“Of course,” Tom replied with a broad smile before taking B’Elanna into a tight hug. He stooped slightly, placing his mouth next to her ear. “I’m so proud of you.”


	2. October 2378

B’Elanna stood outside their apartment building, trying to force herself into a better mood before she entered. She’d just walked the three kilometers from the Trans Francisco station to her home, hoping the physical exertion would dispel the black cloud that had formed above her.

It hadn’t worked. She’d just spent the half hour walk stewing about her meeting.

Standing still, she listened to the rustle of the wind through the leaves and the chirping of small birds, trying to let the nature sounds soothe her. It was pleasantly warm for late October, and the cloudless sky allowed the radiation from the sun to warm her dark colored clothes. As her mind drifted to the heat transfer principle that explained why she wasn’t freezing right now, she only became more upset.

Turning, she started to walk away from the building, in another (most likely futile) attempt to rid herself of this negative energy. But after only a few steps, her mind focused on the tightness that was developing in her breasts, and had been for the last half hour or so. Pausing, B’Elanna pulled out her PADD and checked the time. _Shit_. It was well past when Miral normally ate. She’d thought she’d be back in time, but first the meeting had started late, then she’d taken the extra half hour to walk home…

Tom had most likely already put her down for her nap. The fact that B’Elanna would now have to pump this milk rather than spend the time feeding her baby didn’t make her day any better.

Turning, she headed for the front door of the apartment building. It wasn’t a bad place to live, all things considered. They had two bedrooms, there was a park around the corner, and being in Oakland, summer did actually show up from time to time (although Tom considered it a snub that they had not received housing in San Francisco or Marin). Climbing the stairs, B’Elanna considered that, based on the results of her meeting, they may need to vacate their apartment soon. And then what?

B’Elanna tried to push that thought away as she keyed the entry code to her unit. The door opened to reveal Tom sitting on the couch, still in sweats (although it did look like he had made it to the shower) and reading a PADD. He looked up at her as she threw her bag on the chair next to the door.

“So, it went well?” Tom asked, the sarcasm heavy in his voice.

B’Elanna walked across the small living room (which also served as the dining room and kitchen), and flopped down next to Tom. “As far as those mother fuckers are concerned, I should be kissing their boots just for the _privilege_ of not being in jail right now.”

“Language,” Tom chided.

“She’s in the other room!” B’Elanna snapped back in a harsh tone. Tom had been doing this a lot lately, reminding her to not curse, even when Miral wasn’t around. It was getting on B’Elanna’s last nerve.

“Still, we need to get in the habit before she repeats something we’d rather she didn’t.” Before B’Elanna could respond, he continued. “We could always appeal again.”

Just the thought of that made B’Elanna’s blood boil. She stood and began to pace. What she wouldn’t give to yell or throw something right now, but she knew that would wake Miral.

Miral.

Her attention turned back to her now painfully full breasts. With a growl, she walked over to the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen and grabbed the pump off of it. Slumping back onto the couch, she stripped off her shirt and started attaching the machine.

“Sorry, I tried waiting for you, but Miral was pretty insistent that it was lunch time.”

B’Elanna turned to Tom. “It’s fine. No reason she should suffer because Starfleet can’t start a meeting on time.”

Turning on the machine, B’Elanna leaned back and closed her eyes. Everything was a real fucking mess at the moment. And just five months ago, everything seemed to be going so well.

When they had first returned home in May, there had been official celebrations, fêting the crew. And it had taken mere days to find out that all charges against the Maquis would be dropped and Tom would not be sent back to Auckland to finish his sentence. She could remember the crushing hug he’d given her when Janeway had told them that bit of news. In that moment, it became painfully clear to B’Elanna how much he’d been worried about being separated from her and Miral.

With these early successes, B’Elanna had been hopeful that everything would work out… although if she was perfectly honest with herself, she didn’t quite know what ‘working out’ would look like. A couple times she’d tried to engage Tom in a ‘what are we going to do now?’ discussion, but each time he shut it down, saying they should wait to hear the final decision from command about their ranks. In the meantime, they should just enjoy the parental leave. 

And so, for the first three months back in the Alpha Quadrant, B’Elanna’s life had been very domestic, filled with child care and apartment decorating.

She was just beginning to grow a bit bored with her ‘new life’ when the ruling came: the provisional ranks would not be converted to permanent ranks, although all members of the crew would be compensated for their time in service. Those wishing to continue in Starfleet would need to either enlist or apply for the academy.

Of course, there had been a caveat: those who had been dishonorably discharged or had a criminal record need not apply. Which included a handful of the Maquis with more colorful pasts… and Tom.

A couple hours after they’d gotten the news, B’Elanna had found Tom on the bed, his three month old daughter sleeping on his chest. B’Elanna had lain next to him, softly kissing his cheek before whispering, “I’m so sorry.”

Tom turned his head and shrugged. “It’s for the best,” he had responded, his voice soft. “This way I can be home with Miral. And we don’t need to worry about being split up.”

B’Elanna didn’t understand why he didn’t seem more upset about this. It was as if they’d added that ‘dishonorably discharged’ line just for him! But from the look on his face, B’Elanna could tell he wasn’t that interested in discussing it any further. And anyway, she had enough problems to think about. “I don’t think I want to be Crewman Torres,” she’d quietly responded.

“We’ll get your rank back. You deserve it.”

And so, for the last two months, they had been writing appeal after appeal, trying to get B’Elanna reinstated as a lieutenant. Although, if she was perfectly honest with herself, she didn’t know anymore why they were trying so hard to do this.

B’Elanna opened her eyes, to find Tom staring at her. “Do you want to appeal again?”

“No. I’m sick of this.” The machine beeped, indicating its three minute cycle was done. B’Elanna removed the apparatus and handed it to Tom, who rose and took it to the kitchen to store the milk.

“Then what do you want to do?” His voice was accompanied by the sounds of cleaning the machine.

 _I have no fucking clue_.


	3. December 2378

“And look, if you press this, his nose lights up!” B’Elanna looked on as Tom touched a button on the side of Miral’s sweater, and the nose of the reindeer on her daughter’s chest lit up. Miral looked down at the newly blinking light, her eyebrows furrowing as she grabbed at it.

“That has to be one of the most obnoxious things I’ve ever seen,” Moira, Tom’s eldest sister, said, rolling her eyes.

“I know! Isn’t it great!?”

B’Elanna and Moira shared a long suffering look, before B’Elanna shrugged and said, “Hey, at least I’m not related to him.”

“Yeah, but you chose me. That’s even worse,” Tom replied, wrapping his arm around his wife, and lightly kissing her on her forehead. B’Elanna leaned into the embrace, reveling for a moment in just how much she loved this idiot.

As a child, B’Elanna had loved Christmas (what child doesn’t?) until the first one after her father left. After that, everything about the stupid day would remind her that he was gone. She would remember the Christmas songs they would sing together, the Christmas cookies he would bake with her, how he would sit next to the tree and read her Christmas stories. So, even though her mother had in no way forbidden her from celebrating human holidays, B’Elanna had refused to celebrate this particular one.

As she’d grown older, the memories had faded, but she still found little joy in the day. Even on _Voyager_ , Neelix’s garishly decorated Mess Hall had failed to move her. But this year, heading into December, she felt different. Even though her professional life was still a mess, she had Tom and Miral. And her husband was so excited for their daughter’s first Christmas that B’Elanna couldn’t help but let his joy rub off on her a bit.

But then her father had come over. Since their arrival back in the Alpha Quadrant, John Torres had been visiting B’Elanna around once a month. B’Elanna was wary of him, and Tom possibly even more so, but they both felt that it was only fair to give him a second chance. After all, where would they be if Captain Janeway hadn’t taken a risk on them? In addition, it seemed only fair to let Miral at least get to know him. Still, B’Elanna did have a fear that he’d just disappear again, only this time it would break her daughter’s heart.

So when John had come round a few weeks ago, and made note of Tom and B’Elanna’s tree (it was hard not to notice, seeing as it had taken over a good portion of the living room), B’Elanna felt that old anger starting to bubble up. But then John had mentioned that B’Elanna’s Aunt Merce and Uncle Carl normally had a Christmas Eve party at their house, and asked if Tom and B’Elanna might like to come.

B’Elanna wanted to say no. She wanted to hurt John the same way he’d hurt her, all those years ago. But holding her baby in her arms, B’Elanna found she couldn’t deny Miral her family. “Sure, we’ll be there,” she’d responded.

So they’d spent last night with the Torres clan. Everyone had been wonderful, with one exception: her father. When they’d arrived, he’d not been there, but Uncle Carl had said that John had business off planet, and had told him he’d be running late. But as the hours passed, and John never arrived, B’Elanna didn’t find herself very surprised. Deep in her heart, she’d had an image of him reading Miral a story by the tree… one that she knew she should have never gotten her hopes up about.

Just as Tom and B’Elanna were gathering their things to leave, her PADD buzzed. She looked at the message: _Lanna, sorry I missed Christmas Eve, but the transport got delayed. I’m stuck on Starbase 78. Maybe I can come by later this week? - Dad_

She had yet to reply.

“Oh my, Tom. That’s quite a sweater you’ve dressed her in.” Her mother-in-law’s voice brought B’Elanna back into the moment. Having spotted her grandmother, Miral reached out to Julia, who happily took her out of Tom’s arms.

“Why do you assume Tom dressed her?” Moira asked, a smirk on her lips, obviously knowing she was setting her brother up for something.

“B’Elanna has better taste than this,” Julia responded, while making faces at Miral.

Moira and B’Elanna chuckled, but Tom cross his arms, in mock offence. “I’ll have you know I have great taste, thank you very much.”

“You’re a wonderful father, dear,” Julia said, looking up at her son. “But you dress Miral in the most astounding things sometimes.”

It was true. People often commented on how interesting it was that Miral could pick out her own clothes at such a young age. But the truth was, for the most part, Miral didn’t care what she wore. It was Tom that put together her garish outfits.

“So, have you guys decided what you’re going to do after your parental leave is over?” Moira asked, taking a sip of her wine. “I know I couldn’t wait to get back to work after I had Jacob.”                                      

B’Elanna groaned internally. Over the last two months, since she’d given up appealing Starfleet’s decision, B’Elanna had been applying to civilian engineering jobs. Every one of which had told her that while she seemed to have relevant work experience, they were really looking for someone with credentials.

In other words, a degree in engineering. Another mother fucking hoop.

B’Elanna was trying to come up with something polite and non-committal when Julia spoke up. “Oh, let them be. Your father and I both took the year off when each of you were born. It’s normal to not want to get back to work right away.”

“Well, I couldn’t wait,” Moira countered. “So, what are you two thinking?”

“Personally, I'm enjoying staying home with Miral,” Tom replied.

"You've really taken to it well," Julia commented. "But you've always been a natural caregiver. I remember when you were little and Cinnamon was getting old. You'd be so concerned that that dog wasn't eating enough that you'd bring her food and water to her. And then lay on the floor with her until she ate!" 

B'Elanna watched as Tom blushed. She also wondered if anyone would ever say something like that about her... _probably not_.

"Anyway," Tom said, clearing his throat. "I think at the moment we're just taking things one day at a time."

Miral chose that moment to grow bored with the situation, and demanded to be put down. Julia set her down on the floor, and she immediately crawled over to Tom. Using his pant leg to pull herself up, she then reached out one chubby little arm up for her father’s hand, letting out a sharp cry when he didn’t provide it quick enough.

“This is our new game,” Tom explained to his mother and sister as he grabbed Miral’s hands. “I hold her hands so she can walk around.”

Moira looked at her niece in surprise. “That’s pretty impressive walking for seven months.”

Tom nodded as Miral led him over to a coffee table, letting go of his hands in order to circumnavigate it. “Yeah, it’s the Klingon genes. Klingons tend to walk earlier than humans by several months, but they also talk later. So we’ll see what happens with Miral.”

Miral was reaching up for her father’s hands again, making a high pitched chirp to get his attention.

B’Elanna leaned against the door frame, and couldn’t help but smile as Miral led Tom through his parents’ living room and over to the Christmas tree. Tom was trying to redirect the toddler away from a low hanging flashing ornament when Owen’s voice came from behind her, “B’Elanna. Could I talk to you for a moment?”

* * *

“So your dad just told me he _arranged_ a way for me to get my engineering degree.”

B’Elanna was pacing around the patio just off her in-law’s kitchen, her arms tight across her chest. It wasn’t terribly cold, but B’Elanna’s thin dress was doing little to ward off the chill air. Not that she really cared at the moment. After Owen had ‘told her the good news’, she’d excused herself and dragged Tom outside, leaving Miral with one of his sisters.

“He did?” Tom’s face look a bit surprised. “I didn’t think he’d be able to figure something out so quickly. What’s the plan? What do you think?”

“I _think_ I can’t believe you asked him to arrange this!” B’Elanna snapped. She could feel the anger rising in her gut. How dare Tom go around telling everyone she was having trouble finding work? Making it look like she was some crappy engineer who couldn’t even land an entry level position.

“I didn’t _ask_ him to do anything. We were talking and he asked how things were going, and I told him,” Tom responded, his maddeningly even voice. “And then he said that he thought he might be able to help and he would ask around. And I didn’t think it would be bad to see if he could help us out.”

She turned to face him, wanting to smack that calm look off his face. “You had no _right_ to share my business with him!”

That got his attention. He stepped forward, and said in a harsh tone, “He’s my _father_. And your father-in-law. I had _every_ right. He just wanted to help.”

B’Elanna let out a derisive snort. “You know what Tom? Use your own fucking career to try to patch things up with your dad. Not mine.” As soon as the words hit Tom, B’Elanna couldn’t believe she’d just said them. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” She reached out for his arm, and wasn’t terribly surprised when he shrugged her off.

“No, you meant it.” Tom was walking towards the back of the garden, where a retaining wall separated the small yard from the steep hillside. An uneasy silence settled between the two of them as Tom stared out over the Bay.

B’Elanna slowly approached him, trying to think of what to say to take back her angry words. She shivered slightly, and rubbed her hands on her bare arms. “I was angry. I’m sorry.”

Tom sighed and turned, leaning against the wall. His arms were tightly crossed, and he was staring off to the side, as though he was trying to work through something. Finally, he looked up at her and spoke, “I just don’t understand why you can’t accept some help in all this.”

B’Elanna let out a sigh. “Because I don’t want your dad using his position to pull strings for me. I want to make it on my own merit.”

They stared at each other for a moment, the silence being broken only by the sound of the wind through the trees and the seagulls in the distance. B’Elanna shivered again, but this time Tom saw. He sighed, stepping forward to wrap her in his arms, briskly rubbing his hands over her back to warm her up. “I know it feels like charity or pity,” he whispered into her hair. “But you need the degree if you’re ever going to work as an engineer again.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Tell me what he came up with.”

And so, wrapped in her husband’s arms, B’Elanna quietly told Tom what his father had planned.


	4. February 2379

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” Commander Carla Fernandez said, extending her hand to B’Elanna. “I do have to run, but I hope you’ll accept the offer to work in my group.” Before B’Elanna could even respond, the older woman started over towards a cluster of desks, and the graduate students seated there. “Amara,” she called out, and a young woman in a Starfleet uniform looked up. “Amara is the senior grad student,” Commander Fernandez explained. “She can answer any final questions you might have. Again, nice to meet you and hope to see you in the fall.”

B’Elanna barely had time to thank the older woman before she hurried off, leaving her with the grad student. Amara stood, holding out her hand. “Ensign Amara Nyoo. It’s nice to meet you, B’Elanna.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” B’Elanna shook the young woman’s hand, unable to get over just how young she looked, with her unflawed olive skin and dark hair without a hint of grey.

There was an awkward pause, which Amara rushed to fill. “Your daughter’s really cute.”

B’Elanna reflexively smiled at the compliment. “Thanks… Although I wish I could say she’s normally not that destructive.”

About half an hour ago, B’Elanna, Tom, and Miral had arrived at the Advanced Propulsion Research Laboratory, Commander Fernandez’s lab at the Starfleet Postgraduate School. Fernandez, an old friend of Owen’s, had been interested in the slipstream technology that _Voyager_ had developed even before she knew that the chief engineer was Owen’s daughter-in-law. So Fernandez had been more than willing to meet with B’Elanna after Owen told her that the younger woman had applied to the master’s degree program at SPS, despite B’Elanna’s lack of official credentials. 

Things had gone pretty well when they arrived; introductions were made and Tom and Miral had reveled in being the center of attention for the grad students while B’Elanna spoke with Fernandez. However, after only about ten minutes, the nine month old had started wanting to mess with a piece of rather fragile looking equipment and Tom hurried her out, telling B’Elanna to message him when she was done.

“Well, I don’t think we’ve ever had a baby in the lab before, so we weren’t really prepared.”

B’Elanna blinked. _Never?_ But looking at the faces of the other students, it slowly dawned on her that they were all in their early twenties. Twenty-five at most. Suddenly, she felt very old. “Well, Miral probably won’t be here much,” B’Elanna said, trying to keep her voice even.

Amara looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment, before asking, “Do you have any questions?”

 _Yeah, exactly how old are you?_ Although B’Elanna knew that was in no way appropriate. “Do you like it here? How is Commander Fernandez to work for?”

“I like it. I’m in the fourth year of my PhD, nearly done, I hope.” Amara gave her a knowing smile, which B’Elanna didn’t quite understand. “And Carla’s great.”

“You call her by her first name?” B’Elanna asked.

Amara nodded. “Yeah, with it being a mix of Starfleet and civilians here, things tend to be less formal than at the academy.” Amara’s eyes ran up and down B’Elanna, as though she were attempting to analyze her. “You’re a civilian, right?”

B’Elanna didn’t really know how to answer that question. Was she a civilian? Well, she certainty wasn’t in Starfleet at the moment, so if this was a binary question… “That’s right.”

“Most of the lab is,” Amara said with a smile. “It’s just me and Banji that are Starfleet.”

“Ah…” Well, at least she wouldn’t be surrounded by ensigns. Looking around the room, B’Elanna racked her brain, trying to come up with another question. “And typically how many classes do people take a semester? How many hours a week do you do research?”

“I think most students take around three classes a semester,” Amara answered. “Of course, it depends on what’s being offered. When I was just starting out, I would typically spend about ten hours a week on each class, and then another twenty or more in the lab. But it all depends on how quickly you want to get out of here.”

Fifty hours a week or more… B’Elanna groaned internally. Sure, on _Voyager_ she regularly worked at least that much, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about returning to that kind of schedule. And poor Tom and Miral. She wondered if he realized that school was going to take her away from them so much.

Amara must have noted her expression, because she then hastily added, “I’m usually home before 20:00, it’s really not too bad.”

It really wasn’t that bad, except for the fact that Miral was typically in bed by 19:30.

B’Elanna took a breath and looked around the room again. All the students had probably still been in grade school when _Voyager_ was tossed into the Delta Quadrant. Sure, the lab was state of the art, but was this really the right move? Returning to school, being a student again, after _running_ her own engineering department? She met Amara’s eyes -- eyes without dark circles or creases – and internally sighed. “Well, I don’t think I have any more questions,” B’Elanna said, holding out her hand again. “Thanks for your time.”

Amara smiled. “No problem. Feel free to contact me if there is anything else you need.”

B’Elanna nodded. “I will. Thank you.” And made a hasty retreat for the door.

As she entered the hall, B’Elanna could hear a commotion, and turned to see Tom making weird noises while dragging Miral behind him on her favorite blanket. Looking down at the grimy floor, B’Elanna made a mental note to wash the blanket as soon as she could distract Miral long enough to get it away from her.

Tom looked up and smiled. “Ready to go?” he asked, swooping Miral off the blanket.

B’Elanna reached for her daughter, allowing Tom to put on the baby carrier. Once he had it strapped on, B’Elanna gave the little girl a kiss on the forehead before handing her back to her father. Grabbing Miral’s bag, B’Elanna pulled out her scarf (which Tom had laughed about her wearing, claiming that twelve degrees Celsius was _not_ scarf weather) and buttoned up her jacket before heading out after Tom.

“So, what did you think?” Tom asked, as they walked quickly in the light drizzle to the Trans Francisco station.

B’Elanna pulled up her hood and burrowed her face further into her scarf. “It’s certainty a nice lab,” B’Elanna responded.

Tom looked at her askance, but didn’t pry. She was sure as soon as they weren’t hustling through the rain, he’d interrogate her further.

After a few more minutes at a brisk pace, Tom and B’Elanna stepped off the Academy grounds and into Sausalito. The transit station was just another block, and B’Elanna was focused on getting there and out of the drizzle when Tom exclaimed, “Taqueria El Sol!”

B’Elanna turned, her hood having obscured the fact that she’d left Tom and Miral behind. She saw him standing beneath the awning of the brightly colored restaurant, beckoning to her. As she walked back, he explained, “I loved this place when I was a cadet. Come on, let’s have lunch here.”

B’Elanna’s brow furrowed. The smells coming out of the restaurant were inviting, but looking at Miral, she could see the baby was getting tired. If they headed home now, Miral would likely fall asleep in the train, and then be easily transferred to bed. But if they stopped to have lunch…

“I don’t know, Tom.” B’Elanna began.

“Oh come on, I don’t get over here often and I love this place.”

B’Elanna looked back and forth between Tom and Miral and mentally threw her hands up in the air. What the hell, if it made Tom happy, they’d eat here now. She’d deal with the impending Miral meltdown when it came. “Okay, fine.”

Once in the restaurant, they began peeling off their damp outer layers. Tom dragged a high chair and placed Miral in it while B’Elanna stared at the menu on the wall above the counter.

“What do you want to eat?” Tom asked as he took off the carrier.

B’Elanna quickly made a choice. “Carne asada tacos and a horchata.”

“Two tacos?”

B’Elanna nodded as she turned her attention back to Miral, who was pounding her hands on the table. B’Elanna took some crackers and Miral’s cup out of the diaper bag. Miral reached for the cup, and proceeded to just bang it against the table. B’Elanna winced, reaching out to still Miral’s hand while simultaneously distracting her with a cracker. Miral shrieked at her mother’s intervention but did take the cracker consolation prize and began to gnaw on it.

“I ordered her some beans and cheese,” Tom said, placing B’Elanna’s drink in front of her as well as some chips and salsa in the middle of the table, away from Miral. He then sat, the chair scraping against the hard floor as he brought himself nearer the table.

“So, what did you _really_ think of the lab?” Tom asked, although his eyes were trained on Miral, who was happily smashing her crackers.

“Like I said-- it’s state of the art,” B’Elanna responded, grabbing a chip and dunking it in the salsa. She noted the chunky red sauce was on the spicy side, and made a mental note to keep it far away from Miral.

Tom gave B’Elanna a long look before sighing. He leaned back, and said, “But…?”

B’Elanna let out a sigh as well. How could she tell Tom she was having second thoughts about this? First, his dad had pulled a lot of strings just to allow her to apply without a bachelor’s degree, and then he’d found an advisor who would take B’Elanna: a feat, given her questionable history. On top of that, Tom had spent hours with her preparing the application, re-writing her personal essay and statement of purpose.

Everyone had put a lot of time and effort into making this happen for her, and she _still_ wasn’t happy. What the hell was the matter with her?

Miral screeched, reaching for the chips and salsa (her crackers were now just a pile of mush). Tom moved the salsa, but gave her a couple chips. Miral set to work smashing them as well.

“Well?” Tom prompted, since B’Elanna had never responded.

B’Elanna huffed, and stalled by taking a sip of her horchata. “I don’t know. It was just all too weird.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Too weird?”

B’Elanna shook her head, focusing her attention on a chip. “I just don’t know if it’s right for me.”

Tom rolled his eyes, a look of frustration crossing his face. But he quickly contained himself and asked in a flat voice, “Why do you say that?”

“Number forty-seven!” The voice from the counter interrupted them, and Tom rose to retrieve their food. 

At Tom’s departure, Miral started shrieking again, struggling to get out of her chair, and climb on the table. B’Elanna could see the meltdown coming but hoped the beans that Tom was about to bring over would delay the problem. As B’Elanna reached for a couple more chips, Miral grabbed her cup, threw it across the table, and screamed. The sound grated against B’Elanna’s already frayed nerves. When Tom arrived back at the table with their food, the meltdown was in full swing. As B’Elanna retrieved the hurled cup, Tom grabbed Miral, trying to bounce her into submission. B’Elanna couldn’t take the sounds emanating from her child (nor the looks of the other patrons). Unbuttoning her shirt, she motioned for Tom to give her the squalling baby, and placed her at her breast. After a few moments of coaxing, Miral latched on, and was at last silent as she suckled.

B’Elanna breathed a sigh of relief. She leaned back in the chair, and looked down at her tear stained and cracker goop covered baby. How could she stand to not see her day in and day out? She didn’t really want to be a stay at home parent, but at the same time she wanted to get home in time for dinner and bedtime. And although Tom kept claiming that he did want to stay at home with Miral, she also felt guilty about foisting this all on him.

“You were saying?” Tom asked as he unwrapped the foil on his burrito.

B’Elanna shifted Miral slightly, reaching forward to pick at her taco. “Less than a year ago, I was head of an entire engineering department,” B’Elanna began with a huff. “And now? I’m going to be a student in a lab with a bunch of kids who were probably born the same year I graduated secondary school?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “They aren’t that young…”

B’Elanna could feel her voice rising, and did little to control it. “I just feel like this is a giant step backwards! And it’s all because of some _effing_ bureaucrats!”

Much to B’Elanna’s shock, Tom chuckled slightly. “Way to watch your language.”

B’Elanna gave him an exasperated look before laughing a little herself. “You can’t say I’m not trying.”

“No one could ever accuse you of that.”

Miral shifted, causing B’Elanna to look down at her. Sighing, she ran a finger along Miral’s ridges and then down her cheek. “I’ll miss her, being away so much.”

“I thought you wanted to go back to work,” Tom said before taking another bite of his burrito.

“I do. I miss the… intellectual stimulation.”

Tom’s brows arched. “I’m not intellectually stimulating?” His tone was light, but B’Elanna thought there was a little something behind it.

Attempting to play it off as a joke, she replied, “Well, you’re certainly very stimulating… but I don’t know about intellectual.” She flashed him a sly grin, and was rewarded by a smile of his own. “I just feel like this whole thing is ridiculous sometimes. Going back to school, spending all this energy for what? A stupid piece of paper I should have gotten ten years ago?”

“I know it seems ridiculous,” Tom said, grabbing a chip. “And it’s stupid that people won’t hire you to do the job you’re good at just because you haven’t had a bachelor’s degree bestowed upon you.” B’Elanna was about to agree, ardently, when Tom held his hand up. “But this is the way it is. And you have an awesome opportunity to study what you love and to work in an incredible lab. Sometimes, you just have to focus on the silver lining.”


	5. October 2379

“That’s an interesting result.”

B’Elanna glanced up from her terminal to look at her project partner. “What is?”

The young man, with the orangest hair B’Elanna had ever seen on a human, pointed to his terminal. “You see this graph?” B’Elanna looked at the figure he’d brought up on his screen. It looked pretty fucked up. “I wonder why it does that….”

B’Elanna shook her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Greg, what do you mean?”

He stared pensively at the plot, his chin resting squarely on the palm of his hand. “I’m just trying to come up with the physical reason for this result.”

 _What?!_ For a moment, B’Elanna couldn’t speak. It was like her brain had just overloaded, and then, once it had recovered slightly, a snark log jam had occurred in her throat. ‘The physical reason’?! There obviously wasn’t one; that kind of graph could only be caused by a bug in his code.

She continued just to stare at him, as he pondered the screen. Greg was a nice enough guy, and when they’d first chatted after being assigned to work together on their Advanced Energy Transfer midterm project, she hadn’t been too worried.

But then they’d _actually_ started working together.

The amount of handholding that Greg needed was unreal. He constantly wanted to meet and work. And had seemed disappointed in her for going home at 17:00. She could understand that attitude if they were running out of time, but they nearly had it done and it wasn’t even due for another week! 

As Greg continued to stare at the screen, B’Elanna grabbed her PADD and typed _I’m going to kill Greg,_ before hitting send. B’Elanna had been sending messages like this to Tom all morning. Taking a deep breath, she was about to explain that there was a bug in the code when her PADD buzzed.

_Just don’t get blood on that blouse. It will be a pain to get out._

B’Elanna couldn’t help but chuckle at Tom’s response. But that caught Greg’s attention. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“It’s nothing. Just something my husband messaged me.”

“Oh,” Greg replied, turning back to her screen. “So, do you have any ideas? It’s weird, huh?”

B’Elanna tried not to sound too mean. The boy was only twenty-two, after all. And fresh out of undergrad. “There’s a bug in the code. Think about it, how could equations that are all sinusoidal produce anything like that?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t know where the bug would be.”

B’Elanna had two options at this point. Walk him through how to debug a code (how the hell did he get out of undergrad and not learn that?!) or rip it out of his hands and do it herself.

Her PADD buzzed again, and this time it was a picture of Miral coloring. B’Elanna smiled, very much preferring to be holding her baby’s hand right now rather than Greg’s…

“Does your husband need something?”

B’Elanna looked up. She’d expected Greg to be annoyed at her, but he just looked a little concerned. “No, sorry. Here let me see your code.”

Evidently her brain had decided to take the easy route. Greg saved the code and B’Elanna pulled it up on her own terminal. After a few minutes of playing with the inputs, the problem was clear. “When you numerically integrate something, you have to define the spacing if it’s not unit spacing.” B’Elanna added in the appropriate information, and hit run.

And there it was: a nice smooth curve… just as one would expect from a bunch of sinusoids.

B’Elanna saved the code, and Greg opened it back up. “Oh, that looks much better. I guess I’ll start the parameter study now.”

Sighing, B’Elanna picked up her PADD. _He doesn’t know how to use a numerical integrator…_

When there wasn’t an immediate response, B’Elanna turned back to her work. However, a couple minutes later, her PADD buzzed.

_I think I learned that in high school. In fact, even Miral knows the basics of numerical methods of integration._

And then a picture appeared. It was of Miral coloring again, but this time her paper had a curve on an x-y plane. The area under the curve was divided into trapezoids, and next to it, the trapezoid rule written out. All in crayon.

B’Elanna nearly lost it. Shakily, she grabbed the PADD again.

_I guess I should have Miral as my partner then, huh?_

A few moments later.

_She’s very smart. Takes after her mom._

B’Elanna smiled at the comment. Tom was nothing if not a flatterer.

_Lucky her. Ugh, I do not want to spend the rest of the day with Greg._

_I’m sorry… Do you have much left to do? Should I leave you alone?_

B’Elanna looked at her terminal and sighed. She was glad the project was easy, so it wouldn’t take that much longer to complete. However, the small amount of time she did have to work on it would be mind numbingly dull. And Greg’s need for a safety net…

She typed back, _No, it’s okay. There’s not too much left… mostly babysitting._

_Ha! Me too. Maybe we should babysit together?_

_And then make out after we put the children to bed?_

_I’m game if you are…_

B’Elanna snickered at the last comment, causing Greg to look up again. A bit chagrined, B’Elanna set the PADD down and got back to work.

About an hour and three coding issues later, her PADD buzzed again. _You in the lab?_

B’Elanna’s brow furrowed. _Yeah, why?_

A moment later, the door opened and B’Elanna heard a very distinctive babble. Turning, she saw Tom and Miral walk in. When Miral saw her, she took off at a run across the room and plowed into B’Elanna. “Mama!” she said excitedly as B’Elanna took her into her arms.

“Hi, honey,” B’Elanna said, kissing her daughter’s forehead before looking up at Tom, who was holding a brown sack, containing what smelled like burritos... again. What was with Tom and that taqueria? “What are you guys doing here?”

“Well, I thought you’d like to eat lunch,” Tom replied before stretching a hand out to Greg. “Tom Paris. You must be Greg.”

“Yes, hi.” Greg seemed a bit overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of her family. He turned to B’Elanna, who was still holding Miral. “I didn’t think your daughter would be so young.”

“She’s almost a year and a half,” B’Elanna replied. “How old did you think she would be?”

Greg shrugged. “I don’t know, eight?”

B’Elanna’s eyebrows shot up. Eight?! Exactly how old did he think she was?

Looking at Tom, B’Elanna realized he must be having a similar thought, but he laughed it off. “Nope, only seventeen months. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal my wife for an hour or so.”

“Oh… of course,” Greg stammered a little, obviously not a huge fan of the idea, but not going to challenge either Tom or B’Elanna on it.

Throwing her stuff in her bag, B’Elanna said, “Just make sure you check for bugs if something looks funny. Do it like I showed you.”

“Or you could take a break and get lunch too.” B’Elanna winced at Tom’s words, hoping that Greg wouldn’t misunderstand it as an invitation to join them.

“Oh, I’ll grab something, but I want to get a bit more done. See you later,” Greg said, turning back to his work.

Grasping Miral’s hand, B’Elanna led them quickly out into the bright sunlight. It was a typical October day in the Bay Area, warm and dry. “Thank you for rescuing me,” B’Elanna said, grabbing Tom’s hand as well as they walked to the glade in front of the building that housed her lab.

Tom smiled at her. “You know I’ll always be your knight in shining armor.”

B’Elanna snorted. “That was a pretty weak line, Paris.”

As Miral ran towards the center of the lawn, Tom and B’Elanna sat on the grass, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Well, it might have been a weak line, but it is true.”

B’Elanna smiled, giving him a light kiss. “I know.”


	6. March 2380

“And then, get this: she marked me wrong because I used an adiabatic boundary condition! The question specifically asked for the worst case failure scenario! There is no way in hell convective cooling is going to be the worst, but she said that wasn’t the scenario I was given! Hey, guess what? Things don’t always function in the environments you specify them for!”

B’Elanna was pacing back and forth in their small living room. She felt like a caged animal, having to reverse her direction every four or so steps. Tom sat quietly before her on the couch, watching her move back and forth through the room. He hadn’t said much-- well, not that she’d really allowed him a word in edgewise.

B’Elanna had gotten home rather late tonight, trying to work out her frustrations about Professor Henkel and her goddamn exam by getting work done in the lab. In the end, B’Elanna had missed dinner and bedtime arriving home at 21:00-- tired, hungry, and still in a foul mood.

Then Tom had asked the fateful question, “So, how was your day?” which led to at least twenty minutes of ranting.

B’Elanna couldn’t believe the gall of this stupid professor. Exactly how many warp drives had this woman kept running, stranded, halfway across the galaxy? The utter arrogance of telling B’Elanna that she needed to answer the question asked, not the question she made up in her head…

In a fit of rage, B’Elanna picked up the nearest object (an empty metal water bottle) and flung it across the room while letting out a frustrated growl.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion and even before the water bottle hit the wall that separated the living room from Miral’s room, B’Elanna regretted her action. She could hear Tom’s sharp intake of breath, and then the bottle hit.

They both waited, not making a sound. Maybe Miral didn’t hear it?

The scream that erupted from her room indicated she did. Tom began to rise, but B’Elanna held her hand out. “No, Tom, I’m the idiot who woke her up. I’ll get her back to sleep.”

"But she's calling for me," Tom responded.

B'Elanna didn't quite know how Tom got that out of Miral's inarticulate yells, but it didn't matter. Even if she was calling for him, it was just because she didn't know B'Elanna was home. "You've had her all day, I can take care of it."

Tom shrugged. “Okay, let me know if you need help.” He leaned back on the couch.

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, B’Elanna headed into her daughter’s room. They’d transitioned Miral out of a crib a couple months ago, after she’d made one too many attempts to climb out on her own. Lowering the guard rail on Miral’s small bed, B’Elanna sat on the edge, and reached out for her daughter. “Hey, honey, it’s okay. Mama's here.”

While B’Elanna knew the child would not be instantly calmed, she never expected that Miral would hit her. Twice.  And then yell, “No!”

B’Elanna sat there, a bit stunned while Miral continued to scream. And now B'Elanna could hear it: between sobs she was saying "dada".

Reaching out again, B’Elanna tried to keep a calm voice. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

As soon as B'Elanna made contact again, Miral shoved her away. “No! Dada!”

B’Elanna was trying to figure out exactly how to deal with this when she heard a noise behind her. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Tom voice was soft and comforting, and immediately Miral responded, reaching out her arms while calling for him.

Tom came to the bed and B’Elanna moved aside. She waited for Miral to greet Tom the same way the little girl had greeted her: kicking and screaming. But Miral allowed Tom to easily pick her up and hold her.

B'Elanna watched, helplessly, as Tom rocked and soothed her baby. Unable to look at the scene anymore, B'Elanna went back into the living room and dropped onto the couch. So now her own daughter didn't even want her? Not that she could really blame Miral, after all, B'Elanna was never home these days. Recently, even on the weekends, B'Elanna had went to school in order to have a quiet place to work on problem sets and study for exams. So why would her daughter want her? She didn't even know B'Elanna anymore.

And it was all because of stupid school. Not that that was going well anyway. She barely had enough research done to present at the most Podunk of conferences, to say nothing of something journal quality. And the classes! She wasn't learning jack, and if she strayed at all from the ridiculous course work -- showed a modicum of original thought -- she was shot down!

Bringing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped herself in the blanket that hung over the back of the couch. What was the point of all this? She wasn't getting very far in her research, the classes were pointless, and now her own child didn't want her.

A hot tear ran down B'Elanna's cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. _And great, now I'm crying..._

B'Elanna noticed that there were no longer cries emanating from Miral's room, and a few moments later, Tom reappeared. He stopped short when he saw her, and B'Elanna realized how pathetic and ridiculous she must look; crying on the couch while he had to actually do the work of getting Miral back down.

B'Elanna waited for him to scoff at her, or maybe just to turn and leave her to her pathetic wallowing. But instead, he said, "I bet you're hungry. You didn't eat dinner yet, right?"

 _What?!_ Tom was trying to feed her? "I'm not hungry," she responded, curling up tighter.

"Did you eat?" Tom pressed, heading for the kitchen.

B'Elanna growled, "I didn't, but I'm not hungry."

She could hear Tom rustling around in the kitchen, and then the sound of the replicator. "Tom, I said I'm not hungry!"

Tom came back around the couch, and set a stack of pancakes on the coffee table. "Well, I'm just going to put these here, and you can eat them if you get hungry."

B'Elanna just stared at him for a moment. Seriously? He was treating her like Miral. She was a fully grown adult who could make her own food choices!

Although the pancakes did smell pretty good.

B'Elanna looked from Tom to the pancakes and back again. Part of her didn't want to eat them on principle, but their scent was making her stomach growl. Heaving a sigh, she sat upright and grabbed them, digging in.

She heard Tom let out a long breath, and lean back into the couch. This was ridiculous. Her going to school was running Tom ragged (as evidently he now had _two_ kids to look after). Taking another bite, she tried to remember why it was so important to be an engineer. She should just quit and get a technician job. Doing minor repairs on ships would be dull, but she'd have a lot more time and a lot less stress. They should turn their attention to Tom's career, and stop wasting time with her floundering.

"I think I want to quit," B'Elanna said staring down at her food.

"Quit what? School?"

B'Elanna looked up to see the shocked expression on her husband's face. "Yes," she replied, trying to keep her voice even.

Tom shook his head slightly. "Just drop Henkel's class if you hate it that much."

"But then I'd get behind schedule," B'Elanna argued.

"So?" Tom replied. "Better that you're behind schedule than miserable."

B'Elanna growled in irritation. "Look, things aren't going well at school, you're exhausted, I'm not around enough for Miral to even want me..." B'Elanna looked up, to see Tom rubbing the bridge of his nose. When he didn't respond, she added, "It just doesn't seem worth it anymore."

"I don't even know how to respond to that."

What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? "It's the right choice. I'll get a tech job with regular hours and you could get back to piloting and out of the damn house.”

To B'Elanna's surprise, Tom got up and started pacing. Why was he not agreeing to this?

After a few laps around the living room, he turned and faced her, a much more annoyed expression on his face than she would have expected. "B'Elanna, this is ridiculous. You're never going to be satisfied doing tune-ups on shuttle crafts. And I keep telling you—I’m happy with what I’m doing. I don't know how you could think I’d rather be flying -- I love Miral a lot more than I love being a pilot."

B'Elanna's eyes narrowed. "Oh, so I love engineering more than Miral?"

Tom took a deep breath. "Of course not--"

B'Elanna didn't let him finish. "I must, because I spend all my time at that fucking place. I don't blame Miral for hating me."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Miral doesn’t hate you. And it's not like she hasn't played favorites before."

While Tom was right, Miral had also never acted so violently toward her before. "You don't understand. She hit me!"

"She's in a hitting phase!" Tom replied, exasperated.

B'Elanna slammed down the plate of pancakes. "This is exactly what I mean! I didn't even know that! I don't spend enough time with her to even know her!"

Tom closed his eyes and took a breath. "What if you worked from home more often? Then you could take short breaks and spend them with us."

B'Elanna looked around their tiny apartment. "Where? There's no room for a desk in our room, and I can't concentrate when Miral's with me."

"I could find us a new place. With an office for you and a yard for Miral."

B'Elanna froze. He wanted to move? Now? "Oh, moving is going to make things less stressful," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I'll take care of everything, you won't have to get too involved." B'Elanna had seen this look in Tom's eyes before. He had a plan. And it would be hell to talk him out of it. And, if she were honest, a home office sounded nice.

"Okay, fine, but that still doesn’t address..." she trailed off. It didn’t address what? That she had problems with authority figures? She sighed. "I don't do well with professors who have sticks up their asses. And that seems to be pretty much the entire faculty, other than Carla."

Tom sighed and sat down next to her, taking her hand. "I don't know what to tell you about that. Other than... sometimes you just have to ride these things out. But I really do think you should consider dropping Henkel's class, because she does sound ridiculous."

"I can't--"

He interrupted her. "At least go talk to Carla about it. Please? Maybe she'll have some suggestions about if you should drop the class, or how to deal with Henkel. And maybe what classes you should take or avoid in the future. Or if you should take a lighter load and take longer to graduate... I think you have a lot of options other than just quitting."

B'Elanna took a deep breath. She was feeling a bit better (maybe Tom had been right to feed her), but she still wasn’t convinced quitting wasn't the right choice. "Tom, I don't know..." B'Elanna said, looking down at their intertwined hands.

Tom placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up and forcing her to meet his eyes. "I believe you can do _anything_ you put your mind to. But there is no reason to make this any harder than it needs to be. Just go talk to Carla. Okay?"

B'Elanna stared at his face for a moment, and wondered what in the world she ever did to deserve this man. Slowly, she nodded. "Okay. I will."

* * *

The next day, B'Elanna sat on the train headed home, slowly munching on a granola bar. She had talked to Carla, who had been nothing but sympathetic. Evidently, she’d had run-ins with Henkel before.

"You're taking a class from Henkel? Amara didn't warn you?” Carla said in disbelief.

B'Elanna turned her attention away from the window in her advisor’s office and its sweeping bay view. "I didn't realize I was supposed to tell Amara what classes I was taking..." B'Elanna replied defensively.

"Well, you don’t have to, but it's a good idea to talk to the other students about what classes to take. They would have warned you away from Henkel. The woman may be brilliant, but she is one of the most difficult people I've ever encountered. And she's the very definition of 'ivory tower'."

From there, Carla mentioned another couple professors she thought B'Elanna would clash with, as well as others she thought B'Elanna would like. "But you should really be talking to the students about this," she said. "My opinion is only based on working with them, not taking a class from them."

B'Elanna sighed. She didn’t realize choosing classes would be so... communal. "So what should I do about my current situation?"

Carla shrugged. "Well, you have a couple options. I know the university allows three years, rather than the normal two, for student parents. So you could drop the class and take advantage of that." Carla smiled, wistfully. "I know I wanted to spend as much time as possible with my son when he was Miral's age. And hell, I still love to spend time with him, but at fifteen, he wants little to do with me."

B’Elanna shook her head. “I can’t say I look forward to teenage Miral.”

Carla laughed. “As with all stages, it has its pluses and minuses. But about Henkel, she won’t give you anything less than a C, because then she’d have to justify it. Not that grades really matter. And the teaching assistant will probably be the one that assigns grades anyway, so Henkel’s personal grudge won’t affect your final grade much. You might just try to keep your head down and tough it out. It’s only two more months, after all. But it’s up to you.”

B'Elanna stared at her reflection in the window of the train, wishing for that bay view rather than the wall of a tunnel. Dropping the class and spending more time with Miral and Tom sounded great, but an additional year in school did not.

"You just have to balance your priorities, B'Elanna," Carla had said.

Balance... but there were so many variables, it was hard to tell which combination achieved the optimal result. There were Tom's needs, Miral's needs, her needs. Sometimes she wished they were still lost in the Delta Quadrant. At least out there the answer had always been clear: whatever it takes to survive.

As the train pulled into her station, B'Elanna rose. While she was now pretty sure she didn’t want to quit the master’s program (after a good night’s sleep, that idea had sounded pretty stupid), she still wasn’t completely sure what to do about Henkel’s class. Since the semester was nearly half over, in some ways it seemed like a huge waste to erase all the work she’d already put in.

On the other hand, she really hated that _petaQ_.

B’Elanna walked out of the station and to the queue of people waiting for the autonomous hovercars. As she got closer to the front of the line, she tried to picture going to that stupid class again and listening to that woman talk. Just the very notion of it made her blood start to boil, to the point that once she got into a car and told it where to go, she was ready to quit school all over again.

B’Elanna crossed her arms tightly. This was ridiculous. She should just drop the class and be happy. With that thought, a weight lifted from her shoulders. The decision was made; now to tell Tom.

A few minutes later the car stopped in front of her apartment building and B’Elanna got out. The vehicle drove away, off to its next passenger, and B’Elanna headed inside. Tom had suggested she drop the class in the first place, so he wouldn’t be upset, right? So what if it took another semester or year? In the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t that much time.

B’Elanna opened the door of their unit to find Tom and Miral at the kitchen table. “Mama!” Miral reached out to B’Elanna with her spaghetti sauce covered hands.

B’Elanna deftly avoided them and gave Miral a kiss on the top of the head before giving Tom a peck on the cheek. “How was your day?” B’Elanna asked as she set down her things.

“Good. Miral and I went to the park. You should see her on the monkey bars. Anyway, she took a good long nap after that, so I was doing some reading and found the most amazing article about this new ship that Zapalan Corporation is making. It sounds incredible. You have to read this article so we can talk about it.” B’Elanna turned to see a dreamy expression on Tom’s face. “Man, I’d love to fly that thing. Anyway, how was your day? Did you talk to Carla?”

“Yeah…” she drew out, as a crushing realization hit her. She couldn’t ask Tom to wait another six months or a year for her to finish. He’d already sacrificed enough for her, all because she couldn’t get her act together at nineteen years old and finish school the first time.

Just minutes ago, dropping the class had seemed right, but looking at Tom right now, it felt completely wrong.

“And?” Tom asked, picking spaghetti up off the table and putting it back on Miral’s plate.

“I’m not going to drop the class,” B’Elanna replied, trying to sound confident. “I talked to Carla and she said that if I just keep my head down, it’ll be fine. And I’ve already put half a semester of work into it anyway. It makes more sense to just stick it out.”

Tom reach out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her down onto his lap. “Okay, but I still think it would be a good idea to find a bigger place.” He gave her a sly smile. “After all, I might like having you around more often, even if you are locked away studying.”

B’Elanna looped an arm around Tom’s neck. “I might like that too,” she whispered, before giving him a long kiss.


	7. August 2380

B’Elanna’s PADD was beeping incessantly, informing her that her hover car had arrived. She now had five minutes to get out the door or the stupid thing would drive off, considering her to be a no show. And if the car drove off, then she’d have to order another, which would take five or ten minutes to arrive, ensuring that she’d be late for the first day of class.

Trying to focus, B’Elanna went through her mental checklist: she had her personal PADD, her larger one for taking notes in class, the revisions for her journal article… that’s everything, right? 

Her PADD buzzed again. Three minutes to get outside. B’Elanna rushed out of her office and past Tom and Miral, who were at the kitchen table. Tom had a steaming cup of coffee in front of him (of which B’Elanna was envious, but reminded herself she could grab something at the train station) and Miral was enjoying oatmeal and fruit. As usual, it looked as though her daughter was wearing more of her food than she was eating.

“I have to run,” B’Elanna said, giving Tom a quick kiss as he rose to head over to the kitchen. B’Elanna then gave Miral a kiss on the top of the head. “Bye, honey. Love you.”

“Bye, bye. Love you.” Miral replied, her mouth full of food. B’Elanna couldn’t help but smile. She was constantly amazed at how she never tired of hearing Miral say that.

“B’Elanna, if you wait—” Tom began, but B’Elanna cut him off.

“I really can’t. I’m late already. See you tonight.” With that, B’Elanna hurried out the door and to the waiting car. B’Elanna ran through her mental checklist again, feeling her bag to make sure she had each item. _PADD, PADD, revisions… shit._ Running clothes. She and Amara had been running together at lunch every day over the summer, and she’d set her clothes next to her bag last night… and then completely forgot to put them _in_ the bag. B’Elanna opened the car’s door, and hit the ‘hold’ button, guaranteeing her five more minutes before it drove off. And then she ran back inside the house.

Rushing back to her office, she heard Miral cry out, “Mama!” and Tom say, “Well, that was a short day,” but she ignored them both. Back in her office, she stuffed her running clothes in her bag and then quickly made her way back through the house (pausing only to give Miral another kiss), out the door, and was halfway to the car when she heard Tom’s voice calling her. She turned, and he was standing there, holding a bag and her jacket.

“I have food and coffee for you,” Tom said and he walked towards her.

B’Elanna took the sack, but looked skeptically at the jacket. “Tom, it’s August, it’s sunny, and I’m already wearing a sweater.”

“Humor me,” he replied, forcing the jacket into her hand.

B’Elanna sighed and took it, not having time to argue the point. Just as she was turning to head back to the car, Tom grabbed her by the waist, and kissed her. This kiss was oddly passionate for the situation, and B’Elanna could taste the coffee he’d been drinking, mingling with a flavor that told her he had yet to brush his teeth. When they broke, B’Elanna could see in Tom’s eyes that her going to school and him taking care of Miral all day was _not_ his first choice of activities. B’Elanna began to mentally calculate exactly how long it had been since they’d had time for that… two weeks? No wonder he had that gleam in his eye. Maybe tonight, after Miral was asleep, she would throw him on their bed and they’d spend some quality time together.

Although, recently, _Tom’s_ busy schedule had been the main cause of their not engaging in more amorous activities. Over the summer, B’Elanna had only been working in the lab, and thus was always home for dinner and was relatively free on the weekends. But Tom… his schedule was jam packed. He’d taken advantage of B’Elanna being at home more regularly to join a hoverball team, which took him away two nights a week and for a couple hours on the weekend. Plus, he was busy writing new episodes of Captain Proton, spurred on by a visit from Harry in July.

“So, tell me, how are things going on the _Biko_?” B’Elanna had asked Harry as they settled into the living room of Tom and B’Elanna’s new house.

“Great,” Harry replied enthusiastically. “If I were in uniform, I’m sure you’d compliment me on my new, gold, pip.”

“Full lieutenant?!” B’Elanna was sure her mouth was hanging open. Harry had of course been promoted to lieutenant j.g. upon their return… but another promotion?

Harry was still staring at her, waiting for her reaction. She quickly shook off her shock. “Well, congratulations! That’s great. When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It was just a few days ago, so I figured I’d wait to tell you in person. So, how are things at school?”

B’Elanna smiled. “Actually, really good. Last semester’s courses were a little rough, but I made a breakthrough on my research a couple months ago. I should be able to do a journal publication this fall. Plus, now that it’s summer, I get to spend all day in the lab, which I really do enjoy.”

“That’s great,” Harry said, looking genuinely happy for her. “I’m actually really glad to hear it, because you didn’t seem too happy last time we talked. So, tell me about this breakthrough.”

B’Elanna was about halfway through telling Harry about her work when Tom came back into the living room, laden with appetizers and drinks.

 “Tom, did you know our Harry is now a full lieutenant?” B’Elanna asked as her husband sat beside her on the couch. 

Tom lifted his eyebrows. “Good thing we’re out of the ‘Fleet, or else we’d have to call him ‘sir’ now.”

Harry laughed, as did B’Elanna, although she thought she’d detected a hint of dark humor in Tom’s joke.

Taking a sip of wine, Harry turned his attention to Tom. “So, Tom, what have you been up to since we last talked? You know, other than changing diapers.”

“Actually, Miral is potty trained,” Tom replied, looking proud. Miral was one of the youngest in her play group to get the hang of it, so Tom had bragging rights. Privately, B’Elanna was pretty sure Miral’s ability to control her bladder at such a young age had a lot to do with her Klingon genetics. But she wasn’t going to say that to Tom. “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.” Tom continued, grabbing a slice of sopressata and wrapping it around a chunk of manchego. “What have you been up to lately?”

“Other than my promotion, I found a new holodeck program I thought you might like.” Harry leaned over to grab a cracker. “But I still haven’t found anything as good as Captain Proton. Have you written any new chapters lately? I’d think you’d have some time on your hands these days.”

B’Elanna winced when Harry said that. She was about to jump down his throat about how hard it is to take care of a child, but Tom spoke before she could react. “No, I haven't worked on anything new lately. Why? You looking for a date?"

B’Elanna instinctively slapped Tom on the leg (which he ignored).

“Actually, I’ve been seeing someone new. And don’t start in about how she’s a terrorist, or from a xenophobic species…”

“You know, that girl from the xenophobic species was a terrorist as well. What is it with you and terrorists?”

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Tell us about her. How long have you been seeing each other?”

“A couple months, actually.”

Longer than most of Harry’s relationships. It was probably just about time for the other shoe to drop. “Is it going well?” she asked.

Harry made an uncertain noise. “I don’t know. I really like Maja, but I think we may want different things. She’s mentioned a couple times about how she might like to be stationed planet side. I don’t know if I could do that.”

“What do you mean?” Tom asked.

Harry looked at her husband and shrugged. “I don’t know… wife, kids, a regular nine to five… I just don’t know if could live a life with so little excitement.” Suddenly, Harry’s face blanched, as though he’d just comprehended what he had said. “I mean, not that you guys--”

Tom had held up a hand. “It’s okay. We know we’re old and boring." He took another sip of his beer before continuing. "But getting back to Proton, I have had some ideas for new chapters floating around in the back of my head..."

Tom’s firm squeeze of her ass brought her back to the present. “Love you. Knock ‘em dead today,”

B’Elanna’s PADD started buzzing at her about the car again, prompting her to start moving back towards the car. “Thanks. Love you too.” As she climbed into the car, she looked over her shoulder and said, “And let's spend some ‘quality time’ alone tonight.”

A grin broke out across Tom’s face. “I look forward to it.”

The ride in the car was short. It was only a few kilometers from their new house on the edge of the Oakland hills to the nearest Trans Francisco station. Once she was settled on the train, B’Elanna started to rummage through the bag of food Tom had given her: a thermos of coffee and several small containers. B’Elanna took a sip of the coffee, enjoying its rich flavor. Setting the cup aside, B’Elanna started to go through the rest of the items in the bag.

After all the chaos of finding a new place and moving all their shit had been accomplished, Tom had started in on the garden of their new house. He’d lamented that they had moved in too late in the season for him to plant tomatoes, but he did get a range of other vegetables into the fertile ground. But this lack of tomatoes had set him off on a mission, which landed him at a farmers market.

And yet another obsession was born.

Tom would bring home all kinds of things, and then experiment with how to cook them. For a man who hated Neelix’s experimental cooking so much, B’Elanna couldn’t help to laugh at the fact that dinner time in her house now bore an eerie resemblance to dinner time in the Delta Quadrant. 

B’Elanna pulled out one container that was still warm. Opening it, she saw it contained oatmeal and fruit, the same breakfast that Miral had been eating. Smiling, she located the spoon and dug in. While carrying all this extra food Tom was producing to school was a pain in the ass, at least it tasted good.

As she was finishing her breakfast, the train pulled into the Academy station in Sausalito. B’Elanna quickly threw her containers back into the bag and hustled out of the train. She had exactly ten minutes to make it to her class. She hurried through the station, dodging people who seemed to have nothing better to do than stand directly in her way. Finally, she was near the exit, and the wide streets that would allow her to pick up the pace.

But when she exited the station, she was greeted by a gust of bone chilling fog. B’Elanna shivered. _But it had been so warm in Oakland…_

She paused for a moment, pulling out the jacket that Tom had forced her to bring along. Somehow he’d known. Either he’d had the foresight to check the weather or his childhood in Marin had made him realize it would be dreadful still on this summer morning. As she slipped on her coat, she thought about how Tom, in the two years since they’d been back on Earth, had been focusing all his attention on her, making sure she got through school and was successful.

Maybe it was time to start focusing on him. 


	8. December 2380

“Do you think my penis could get sunburnt?”

B’Elanna opened her eyes slightly, and looked at the object in question. They were laying in the sun, on a wide chaise lounge, enjoying their private patio.

B’Elanna had ventured out of their posh Tahitian suite to their private pool relatively early that morning, while Tom had continued to sleep. The air was warm, even at eight in the morning, and B’Elanna had discarded her tank top and shorts and slipped into pleasant water. She’d been floating, her eyes closed, when she felt a wave disrupt her peace. Opening her eyes, she saw Tom moving towards her. Of course, his presence in the pool, also nude, had led to playful roughhousing, culminating in them moving their activities to the lounge where they currently were laying.

“I suppose it could get sunburnt,” B’Elanna replied, trying to push away the mental image that was forming in her mind. “Did you take your sun protector hypo?”

“Yes.”

B’Elanna shrugged. Or half shrugged, considering she was laying in Tom’s embrace, her head nestled on his shoulder. “It should be fine. But you could put your shorts on if you’re worried about it.”

“But that would deny you the opportunity to gaze upon its splendor,” Tom replied, his voice light.

B’Elanna chuckled, looking back at the subject of their conversation. Currently, it was laying small and limp against Tom’s leg, looking as satiated as she felt. Not really the definition of ‘splendor’.

They had been in Tahiti for a couple days now. Tom had surprised her with the plan for this week long trip on Christmas Eve, after they’d put Miral to bed.

B’Elanna had sat there shocked, next to the Christmas tree, staring at the PADD in her hand. A week long trip to Tahiti, starting in two days… and he hadn’t thought to even ask if her schedule could accommodate that? B’Elanna looked up slowly to see Tom grinning, obviously quite proud of himself. “Well? What do you think?” he asked, when she just continued to stare at him.

“I think I had planned to work next week.” B’Elanna said, setting the PADD down. She had intended to use the holiday break to spend some time alone and uninterrupted in the lab. She already had gotten one paper published in a journal, and she knew if she really focused this next semester, she might be able to get another out the door before May.

Tom’s face fell, as she might have predicted, at her reaction. “But the university is closed until January fifth. I checked. That’s why I made the reservation for this time.”

B’Elanna shook her head. “Tom, they aren’t going to lock me out of my lab. The university being closed just means the administrative personnel aren’t there.” In any case, how dare he just assume she could drop everything and run off to Tahiti with him! B’Elanna was mentally gearing up for them to have a huge fight.

But when Tom spoke, he just sounded sad. “If you can’t go, it’s fine. I asked my parents if they’d watch Miral for us, but maybe they’d like to take the reservation.” Tom took a breath, before rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I thought you might like to get away for bit. You’ve been strung pretty tight, even though things have been going so well this semester. I thought maybe if I just planned it, you might let me whisk you away.”

Tom’s eyes never met B’Elanna’s while he spoke. He’d just stared off into the corner of the room. B’Elanna had never seen him look quite like this before -- a mixture of exhausted and defeated. Moreover, she didn’t like that she was probably the main cause of his current state. So, while she was still upset, looking at her husband she realized they did need a break.

Tom had stood and was headed out of the room when B’Elanna called after him. “So, tell me more about what there is to do in Tahiti.”

Now nestled in Tom’s embrace, she could appreciate the full wisdom of his plan, and was thankful he’d brought her to this tropical paradise.

“I was thinking we should talk about something.” Tom’s voice rumbled in his chest, and found B’Elanna herself pleasantly soothed by the vibrations.

“Sure,” she replied.

“Well,” Tom began. “I’ve been doing some thinking. Miral will be three soon, and she’ll start school in the fall. So I'll have more free time.”

 _Oh thank God._ Tom had finally come to realize he needed to get in the pilot’s seat. He’d been gathering hobbies in an almost manic fashion over the past six months: hoverball, chapters and chapters of Captain Proton, Klingon classes with Miral, cooking, gardening...

It had taken B’Elanna a while to realize what was going on, but now she thought that maybe Tom was trying to fill the void that not flying had created in his life. However, B’Elanna was never sure how to bring this up. She didn’t want to imply that Tom wasn’t satisfied with being Miral’s primary caregiver. Because he said he was. And it wasn’t like Tom didn’t know that he was perfectly welcome to go back to piloting. There was an excellent childcare center just blocks from their house.

B’Elanna had the feeling that there was more to it than just caregiving versus working, but for the life of her, B’Elanna couldn’t figure it out. Thus, she didn’t have a plan of attack to make Tom voice whatever was bothering him. So she’d just let it ride, since Tom seemed pretty chipper on a day to day basis. Plus, if she were honest with herself, Tom staying at home made her life significantly easier.

But here Tom was, bringing it up himself. B’Elanna internally cheered. Perhaps the deep dive into Tom’s psyche could be averted and they could just move on.

“I think this is a good time to start trying for another baby.”

B’Elanna bolted upright and started at Tom in disbelief. Another baby?! They’d just figured this one out. Kind of.

“I’m guessing by that reaction you’re not immediately on board…” Tom said, bringing his knees up slightly, taking on what B’Elanna recognized as a defensive posture.

B’Elanna didn’t even know where to begin. She took a deep breath, trying to level out her emotions and not start a fight. “It’s not so much that I’m not on board, it’s more like I had no idea this ship even existed.”

Tom looked at her, questioningly. “You don’t want more kids?”

“I don’t know,” B’Elanna said, trying not to sound too exasperated. “I mean, sometimes I think it would have been nice to have siblings, so I don’t know if I want Miral to be an only child like I was. But… I hated being pregnant and I don’t know if this is the best time.”

Tom leaned back, crossing his arms. _Fuck, he’s getting more defensive_. “Well, I don’t know what to say about you disliking being pregnant, but as to the timing, what’s so bad about it? You’re nearly done with school, and I wouldn’t want the kids to be too far apart in age. Even at just three years, I’m not sure how much they could play together.”

B’Elanna didn’t know which part to attack first: him being dismissive of what a pain in the ass being pregnant was or that this was _actually_ a good time to have another baby.

She decided to go with the latter. “Well, I’d like to get my career actually going before taking parental leave. And,” she took a breath, readying herself for the possible fallout of her next comment. “You need to get back to work.”

“Oh, so taking care of our child isn’t ‘work’?” Tom snapped.

 _Crap._ “It is! And I don’t want to minimize how much work it is or how good you are at it. But,” she reached over, and pried his arms apart, forcing him to allow her to sit astride his legs. She then grabbed the back of his head, making him look into her eyes. “Tom, I love you so much. And I love how you are with Miral. And if you can look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don’t miss flying, I’ll believe you.”

Their eyes were locked for a long moment, and B’Elanna could almost see Tom’s brain racing behind them. Finally he looked away, and B’Elanna knew the truth. He did miss it. A lot.

“You can go back to piloting, Tom. You won’t be abandoning Miral. Or me, for that matter.”

B’Elanna could feel Tom tense, and knew something in that sentence had hit close to the problem. He was worried about abandoning them?

As she watched him gnaw on his lip, B’Elanna tried to stay patient and not push him into speaking. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he replied, “I’ve thought about going back to piloting a lot recently and it just hasn’t sat right with me. I love piloting. But I also love raising Miral. And," he pursed his lips, "well, I don't if know I could do both at the same time as well as I'd like to."

B’Elanna considered his words. She knew she’d be bored to death without something technical to put her mind to. So while Tom said he was happy, she couldn’t quite picture him never sitting behind a helm again. It was who he was. B’Elanna leaned forward and hugged Tom, whispering against his neck, “I’ll always support what you want to do.”

She felt Tom’s arms wrap around her, squeezing her in return. When she pulled back, he gave her a forced grin, his way of indicating that he wanted the ‘serious’ conversation to end. “We can talk about all this later -- after you’ve landed the prestigious job you deserve.” He ran his strong hand down her back, applying pressure to stretch out the large muscles. “And anyway, when I planned this week, I intended it to be about pampering you, not weighing you down with more problems. So forget I even brought any of it up.”

B’Elanna looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure out how to respond. He kept up his ministrations on her back, and finally a soft moan escaped her lips. He smiled at the noise, and then said, “Come on, let’s go eat breakfast and then figure out what we want to do today.”

B’Elanna didn’t like the idea of ending this conversation now, but Tom clearly didn’t want to talk about it anymore. And he needed this vacation just as much as she did.

She leaned forward, giving him a peck on the lips. “Sounds good to me.”


	9. May 2381

“Congratulations!” B’Elanna felt a hand clasp on her shoulder as a familiar gravelly voice wafted to her ears. She turned to see Captain – _Admiral_ Janeway smiling at her. A big grin broke out across B’Elanna’s face as the older woman took her into an embrace. “I knew you could do it, B’Elanna,” the Admiral whispered before stepping back. “And I read your latest paper. When you have a moment—”

“Mama, can I have a cupcake?” B’Elanna looked down at her daughter… who already had frosting on her face.

B’Elanna sighed. “First, Miral, what have we discussed about not interrupting?”

“Sorry, Mama.” Miral was doing her best to look contrite.

“I’m not the one you interrupted. Apologize to Admiral Janeway.”

“Sorry.” The little girl was now looking squarely at her feet.

B’Elanna glanced back over at Janeway, who had an amused expression on her face. “It’s okay Miral.” Janeway then turned her attention back to B’Elanna. “I can’t believe how big she’s gotten. It seems like only yesterday she was this tiny thing I was holding in sickbay, not almost three years ago.”

There was an incessant tugging on B’Elanna’s skirt. She looked down again at Miral, who was now just pleading with her big brown eyes. B’Elanna had no idea how many cupcakes the little girl had already eaten, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was a sugar high, and then crash.

But she also didn’t want to deal with the tantrum that would probably follow being told no. “Go ask Daddy.”

And with that the little girl ran off across the yard. For a moment B’Elanna watched Miral seek Tom out like a missile on the crowded patio. B’Elanna really couldn’t believe how many people had come to her graduation party. While only about a fourth of the crew of _Voyager_ was present (as, for the most part, their ranks had been spread through the Alpha Quadrant), she was flattered to see that so many of those who were able to had come, including a healthy contingent from her old department and most of the senior staff. Then there were her fellow students and Carla, and a surprisingly large number of people from both of her and Tom’s extended families. Her father was also supposed to come, but B’Elanna never held her breath.

Looking around, B’Elanna felt suddenly humbled that so many people would take the time to come stand in her backyard on a chilly May afternoon to celebrate her accomplishment.

“I guess congratulations are in order. And this is a really great party, by the way.” Harry’s words brought B’Elanna back to the moment, as he clasped her shoulder and came around to speak with her and Janeway.

“Thanks,” B’Elanna replied. “But really, the party was all Tom. He’s spent a lot of time redoing the backyard to get it ready for this many people.” Over the past few months, Tom had transformed the area, adding a patio with a sitting area, raised beds, and replanting most of the foliage. All while B’Elanna studied and Miral played in the dirt.

“I know, last time I talked, he was telling me about the renovations he’d been doing back here. Seems like a waste he’s not putting that creative energy towards designing a new Flyer,” Harry responded.

B’Elanna grimaced. She wondered how long it would take before Harry’s dismissiveness of Tom’s new path in life would drive a wedge between the two men. One day she’d have to knock some sense into her old friend. But today wasn’t that day. She let the comment slide.

B’Elanna heard a distinctive three year old yell come from across the yard and turned to see Tom kneeling down in front of a sobbing Miral. “Evidently Daddy said no to more cupcakes,” Janeway commented, sounding a bit amused. But B’Elanna just felt guilty. She really should have dealt with the child herself.

“If you’ll excuse me.” B’Elanna made a hasty retreat over to Tom. She could overhear him asking Miral if she needed to go sit on the steps in the corner of the yard to compose herself. Miral shook her head, and although she was still visibly upset, it did look like she was getting herself back under control.

Tom appeased Miral with a strawberry, before starting to rummage around in the drinks bucket.

“Everything okay?” B’Elanna asked.

He looked up at her and nodded. “Oh, she’s fine. We just had a disagreement about how many cupcakes one person should eat.”

“B’Elanna! Tom!” Turning at the sound of her name, B’Elanna saw Owen and Julia walking through the yard.

“Grammy! Pop Pop!” Miral sprinted towards her grandparents. Owen lifted the little girl up, giving her a kiss before putting her back down so Julia could greet Miral as well.

Owen quickly closed the distance between himself and B’Elanna, embracing her before clasping Tom on the shoulder. “You’ve got quite a wife here, son,” Owen said, smiling warmly at B’Elanna. “Carla won’t stop lamenting what a loss it is that B’Elanna won’t stay on for a PhD.”

B’Elanna felt Tom wrap a strong arm around her waist. “Yeah, but the Utopia Planitia engine design group is gaining one hell of an engineer.”

“Wait, you’re moving to Mars? Why didn’t anyone bother to mention this to me?” Julia looked just about as offended as a person could possibly muster.

“No, the engine design group is just in Fremont.” B’Elanna supposed that in the continuum of mothers-in-law, Julia wasn’t that bad. She didn’t actively meddle in her and Tom’s life, and she was great with Miral, but that didn’t mean B’Elanna had figured out how to interact with her yet. Owen had been much simpler. They just had to talk about starship engines once, and the two had made fast friends.

“Well,” Owen cut in. “I just can’t tell you how pleased I am with how well you did at SPS. I really hoped you would succeed, but after reading your papers and talking to Carla…” Owen shook his head in amazement. “I was beyond impressed with your work.”

B’Elanna was unsure how to respond to this. She looked up at Tom for guidance, but he just had a stunned expression on his face.

So B’Elanna decided to deflect the comment. “Well, I really can’t thank you enough for arranging the whole thing for me…” B’Elanna trailed off, not wanting to dwell too much on her initial reaction.

Owen smiled. “I was glad to help. It’s been great watching you get your life back on track.”

B’Elanna nodded politely, unsure exactly what to say. Sure, those first few months back in the Alpha Quadrant had been a bit unnerving, but she never really felt like her life had derailed at any point. But maybe that’s because she’d actually experienced life derailments, from dropping out of the Academy to being flung into the Delta Quadrant, and thus could differentiate that from ‘small setback.’

“The party is really lovely, Tom. You’ve done wonders with this backyard.” Julia took a few steps to investigate the tomato plants. “These are looking quite healthy! I wish we had enough days without fog to grow tomatoes at our house.”

B’Elanna looked up to see Tom smile. “Thanks Mom. I’ve actually found an heirloom that is supposed to grow in a foggier climate. Maybe we could plant some…” B’Elanna could no longer hear Tom’s voice, as he and his mother moved towards the plants in question, discussing their cultivation.

“Those two and their tomatoes,” Owen said, shaking his head. “I don’t know how they find them so interesting.”

B’Elanna shrugged. “I can’t say I fully understand it either, but they are delicious.”

“That may be,” Owen replied. “But it still seems like a bit of a waste of talent.” Owen’s eyes lost contact with B’Elanna’s, having caught sight of someone behind her. “Katie!” he called out, before looking back at B’Elanna. “Excuse me, I wanted to talk to Kathryn for a moment.”

B’Elanna nodded politely in response. With Owen gone, and Tom and Julia talking about tomatoes, B’Elanna scanned the crowed for a new group to talk to. She quickly spotted Chakotay chatting with her Uncle Carl. She had just begun making her way through the crowd when a hand grabbed her arm. Turning, she was slightly surprised to see her father. “Hi, Dad.”

“Congratulations, Lanna,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. She returned the hug, her chin resting comfortably on his shoulder. It always amazed B’Elanna how small he was, much closer to her size than she would have expected. “You worked so hard for this. I'm very proud of you,” he whispered, patting her on the back before they parted. B’Elanna smiled, a wave of joy washing over her. Although she didn’t want to, she still cared about what he thought of her.

“Thanks.” She was about to continue, but realized her father’s attention had wandered. Looking over her shoulder, she realized he’d spotted Miral over by Julia and Tom. It stung to have her father’s attention ripped away… but at least it was her own child he was passing her over for.

“I’m going to go say hi to Miral—and Julia and Tom.” He clasped her shoulder, giving her a smile before walking off.

B’Elanna stood back and watched as Miral ran to John and jumped into his arms. He lifted her for a kiss, and then hugged the little girl tightly. B’Elanna wasn’t quite sure why it hurt so much to watch this, but she felt like she needed to get away for a moment. She quickly made her way into the house and, once in the kitchen, she let out a slow breath as she leaned against the counter. _I’ll just stay here for a moment_ , she thought, trying to collect herself before diving back into the commotion of the party.

She heard the creak of the wood stairs that led to the back door. Bracing herself, she tried to look composed and happy. But thankfully, when the door opened, it was just Tom. “Hey,” he said, coming towards her.

“Hey,” she responded. “What going on?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

As B’Elanna looked at him, images from the past three years passed through her mind’s eye: Tom bringing Miral to her for midnight feedings, Tom massaging her shoulders after a particularly stressful day, Tom leaving little notes in her lunch that would make her smile. Tom sitting there, patiently listening to her. And here he was again. Checking up on her.

He was _always_ there for her.

And that’s when it occurred to her. Unlike her failed attempt at the Academy, this time, she’d had Tom there to fight by her side. His support when she had a bad day—or month—had kept her from quitting.

And now he was there with her to celebrate her triumph. But she had only won this battle because they were together.

She approached him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest. “I’m fine,” she said, squeezing him tight. B’Elanna then leaned back, and looked into his eyes. Slowly, she lifted a hand and ran her fingers lightly down the side of his face, briefly caressing his lips. “You’re so good to me,” she whispered. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Tom shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. This was all you.”

“No.” B’Elanna’s voice was forceful, but not unkind. “You’re always there for me and…” B’Elanna paused, not knowing how to continue. “I just wanted to thank you. And tell you how much I love you.”

She felt Tom exhale, and his arms tighten around her. “I love you, too.”

 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you very much to CaptAcorn, RSB, Delwin, and Photogirl1890. They were instrumental in creating this piece and they write wonderful P/T fic (and all took part in the exchange that generated this story), so you should go check out their work. Another thank you to all of you that have left (or will leave) feedback. It's much appreciated! Finally, I have a plan for a sequel to this story from Tom’s point of view, in which he figures out his place in the Alpha Quadrant. We’ll see when I can get to that. So, hopefully after this installment, you actually want to see that. ;)


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